for @10_20_15_5_50

[deadboywalking]

It was supposed to help.

They'd sold the Pinto for this -- Joyce white-knuckled and tight-lipped at the car dealership, trying to get the most money possible, because tickets from Indianapolis to Sacramento weren't cheap, even if, at 12, Will could still get a child's seat. They'd spent all this money, because Joyce had heard from a doctor who'd heard from a nurse from an orderly from another nurse that this guy in California was supposed to be the best.

But hundreds of dollars and an exhausting all-night flight later, they had nothing to show for it. The doctor had done all the same tests, EKG and blood tests, so many that Will felt shaky and dizzy afterwards. He'd asked a thousand questions and Will had talked until his throat was sore about the episodes, about the things he could see, about the place he sometimes went. And all the doctor had been able to say was, "Probably PTSD. You said he was lost in the woods for a week?"

She wasn't talking, but Will could tell his mother was starting to lose hope. She had that blank, faraway look in her eyes, she kept spacing out and didn't seem to hear Will when he spoke. Even worse, she'd missed the turn to get to the airport, so they'd missed their flight and had to rebook for another one, early in the morning.

So there they were, sitting in the Sacramento airport at three in the morning, waiting for their flight to begin boarding. Joyce had a now-stone-cold cup of coffee in front of her, untouched, and she kept nodding off where she sat. Will was on the other side of their luggage, just as exhausted, but unable to let himself sleep.

Instead he glanced down at where his long sleeves rode up, displaying the numerous bandages on his lower arms. It had taken the nurse multiple tries to find a vein for the IV, or to draw from, and Will sort of felt like one big pincushion. He absently tugged at the sleeves, looking around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. People liked to assume, after all.

Comments

[10_20_15_5_50]

“You could say.” Sam's tone made her words sound a lot like I guess, yeah. She didn't say more, attentive the second Will inhaled to answer her. Her face fell a little as she listened, and she looked to Will, where he indicated, with fresh concern. “A what...? But, wait.”

Her tone hadn't been accusatory, not at all, but there was the way the boy had reacted to her shaking her head, to her frowning, and to his own accidentally dropping a couple of quarters. With those moments in mind, Sam reached out again, this time cupping her hand around Will's upper arm. “Like he said, we're not going to blame you. But we'd like to know whatever you can tell us about this monster, too.”

[deadboywalking]

Will just maintains his death grip with one tiny hand on Breakdown's finger, so...imagine that, if you will. He's not teary anymore, but he's watching Sam's face with almost tangible anxiety, shoulders hunched up close to his ears, like he's expecting...something. Some sort of anger, some disgust, some type of lashing out. It's a wordless, glaring signal that speaks volumes as to the type of treatment he's used to.

But Sam's hand on his arm makes him relax (minutely), swallowing tightly. "I don't think it's...still in there. I...coughed things up for a while. Gross things. But now I can just...see where I was. Where it took me. We called it the Upside Down. It was like...this world, but...different. Wrong." He pauses, glancing around the airport for a moment, like he's waiting for something. "...I saw it earlier. Before you came by, Sam. Just for a second, I could see it."

[a_little_red_in_the_face]

This talk of a place like this world but different perks his interest. He glances at Sam. "I think one of my CO's may have been to this place."

Honestly, he doesn't have enough details about Starscream's experience or Will's to say for sure, but it sounded similar at the moment.

[10_20_15_5_50]

Some disgust crossed Sam's face at Will's admission ('gross things') but it was tempered by sympathy and unease. From the look on her face, she might've been listening to a friend describing the stomach flu they'd suffered in detail, waiting for an opening to ask 'but now, you're doing alright...?' There was no sign of the outburst Will seemed to be expecting; instead, his arm got a soft, supportive squeeze. “I'm sorry. That that happened to you, that you have this.... bullshit aftermath to worry about. You got like, the worst way to end up in the mix. In every sense, you got a hell of a head start.” She offered a small, encouraging smile---it came easily, despite everything---before twisting to ask Breakdown what it seemed someone should.

“The fuck are your people even up to?”

[deadboywalking]

There's a flicker of a smile on Will's face, if only because hearing adults swear is always amusing to children. But then, going back to his worried expression, he looks between Sam and Breakdown anxiously. "Can you fix it, then? Can you fix me?"

[a_little_red_in_the_face]

Breakdown just gave a little shrug. "That wasn't something that was planned or anticipated from what I heard. We opened a ground bridge someplace, and the Autobots opened one right on top of ours. Something about that sent those who went through into some kind of shadow-mirror world or something, this place but not. I think I heard it was the Autobots who figured it out when a couple of their--uh..." He was about to say 'pets', but a pause to really consider who he's talking to makes him decide to not use such a word. "Human friends got trapped there."

It's Will's question that pulls Breakdown's focus back to the present issue. "I dunno, Runt. Sounds like you need a medic, but I only know medical stuff for my own kind. Point me at this monster and I'd be happy to smash it to pulp, but with you back here I don't know that I can help you with anything." He looks at Sam. "If either of us can do anything, it'll be her." He nods at Sam, then looks back to Will. "But that's for her to say. I know only some of what she can do."

[10_20_15_5_50]

“I only know some of what I can do.” Sam shot Breakdown a sidelong look, shrugging herself and apologetic as she answered Will. “I'm still figuring things out, getting a feel for more and more... and working with pretty minimal information, so far as you go. I don't know what I can do for you. Yet.”

Releasing Will's arm, Sam shifted enough to sit back. “I'll... ask around a bit. I've heard a few things about otherspaces, but the ones I've heard about don't really mirror here. What we can do, I dunno, but we'll try to help.” It may have been more-or-less established already, but it couldn't hurt the kid to hear it.

Leaning back to better see Breakdown, Sam couldn't help but think gods' blood, zombiebots, and now otherspace shit; I should shout collin da bin. “Asking around, did the Autobots get their people back? And what's the scoop on your CO?”

[deadboywalking]

Will nods quickly, hard, even though his shoulders droop in disappointment and his chest gets tighter. He'd hoped it would be that easy, that they could just...get whatever is in him, in his head or his blood or his bones, out and everything would go back to normal. "Okay. Okay." His voice definitely isn't wavering, shut up.

Clearing his throat, Will looks up at Breakdown, just as curious. "Was it cold there? Did he tell you?"

[a_little_red_in_the_face]

Breakdown wished he could give the boy a better answer than this, but it was all he could give. "I dunno. I never heard directly from him what happened, I just heard about it from some of the other troops. Honestly, though, it takes some pretty cold temperatures for us to really take notice so he may not have commented on it at all if it wasn't extreme."

[10_20_15_5_50]

“Sorry, Will. I know it's not what you wanted to hear... but whatever I hear, I'll be in touch.” Sam offered the kid a small, crooked smile. Though it stung to see Will so visibly crushed, the smile felt natural enough, since she had something (hopefully) heartening to say. “Got a plan, and if it doesn't pan out, I got other options.”

Plan B wasn't exactly easy---bottling a message took time and some effort---but it was definitely doable.

“How cold? And, c'mon name names. Don't leave me hanging.”

[deadboywalking]

Will nods quickly, because he knows they're trying. That's more than a lot of the doctors have even done. So he smiles weakly and clears his throat. "Was your friend okay? After he came back?"

Totally BSing a reason for canon inconsistencies dealing with the cold

[a_little_red_in_the_face]

"Uh...well, Arctic cold. I mean, if we know we're going into a cold place we can do stuff to prepare, but the prep takes time and for missions we don't usually get a chance. Extreme cold can freeze our hydraulics."

He looks at Will again, a wry smirk on his face. "I don't know that anyone would describe Starscream as 'okay', or as a friend. But he seems as much like himself as I've ever heard." Treacherous, treasonous, egotistical, and an irredeemable aft.

[count von count voice] ten! ten tin cans, ah-ah-ah

[10_20_15_5_50]

At 'Arctic cold,' Sam indulged in an amused little chuff. “So if I want an answer to 'Inuvik, be there or be square,' it oughtta be in August? Got it. God, but I'm glad frostbite isn't an issue anymore.” It might've been a frivolous turn for the conversation to take, but that wasn't really a bad thing---Will was smiling, at least a little, Breaking was smirking, and she was still very interested in learning whatever she could about Cybertronians.

Though the big 'Con was speaking to Will, Sam couldn't quite keep from smirking herself at hearing Starscream's name. She learned over to Will, and in a low, conspiratorial tone, remarked, “That's ten, now.”

[deadboywalking]

"Frostbite's when you lose your toes, right?" Will's seen TV! He knows things! Sort of. And then he scrunches his nose in amusement at Sam. "That's more than I'd figured. How long have you been keeping track?"

Hey, only the Autobots are "tin cans".

[a_little_red_in_the_face]

He smirks at Sam. "Heh, and you know only a fraction of the Cons hanging out here. I'll just leave it at that."

Well, with it established that he can't currently help the kid, he'll shift his hand back to the ground so the two can get back to their own feet.

it had a good ring alright

[10_20_15_5_50]

“If it's awful. The not-awful frostbite--so, like, superficial frostbite--is just painful or annoying or both. I only ever had it once, here.” Sam raised both hands to her face, tapping high up on her cheekbones. Being adorable, Will's scrunched nose got her grinning as she answered, “Since I found Breakdown, so three years.”

She climbed off of his huge hand a little awkwardly, but easily enough, and immediately turned to offer Will her her own so he'd have an easier time, despite being so small. “Doesn't matter. What matters is this: I'll know 'em if I see 'em. Doesn't mean I don't want to know more, but I can take the consolation prize. I'll just bitch a bit about it.” The last remark was, again, aimed at Will, though this time the words were in a sort of stage-whisper.

“High time I got you back to your mom. Breakdown, I'll try to be quick. Ish.”

[deadboywalking]

"Three whole years?" For an eighth-grader, this is forever. But that makes Will a little more encouraged, standing up and carefully taking Sam's hand, his own too cold. Poor circulation, maybe? Still, he looks woeful about having to leave Breakdown behind, letting out a soft sigh.

"Okay. Is she awake? Can you tell?

[a_little_red_in_the_face]

Breakdown turned his gaze towards the building again. If they watch closely, they'll be able to see things moving behind that single yellow plane of glass. "She's not really moving, so I'll assume she's still sleeping and so hasn't realized you've wandered away to chat with strangers."

[10_20_15_5_50]

"Yeah. He's gonna be stuck with me for like, the next seventy or so." By now, the big mech was probably resigned to his fate, but far be it from Sam to let him go without a bit of flak now and again---and anyway, he gave as good as he got. "And, here--!"

Suspecting Will wouldn't've appreciated being lowered by both armpits (again, being made to feel small was the last thing he needed) Sam simply steadied him until he had both feet back on the blacktop. She moved her hand to his back after that, urging the boy along as patiently as she could. She understood that walking away from a real live alien robot when you could ask questions was probably one of the most difficult things a twelve-year-old kid could do, but their conversation had already gone on a little too long.

If we're hooped, we're hooped. Here's hoping it's not another shitshow. Sighing herself, Sam raised her free hand briefly, without looking back.

[deadboywalking]

Awwww, bye enormous robot friend. Will waves over his shoulder, a little half-heartedly, then lets out a soft sigh that turns into a hoarse, barking sort of cough. "Think anyone else will see him?" They...are sort of in a public place...

[a_little_red_in_the_face]

Breakdown watched them go a moment before folding back down into his alt mode. He found himself truly hoping that Sam could find a way to help the runt. Someone so small and untrained shouldn't have to face such crazy slag.

[10_20_15_5_50]

"Maybe. Probably not. His luck's kinda crappy, but my luck's pretty good, and we've kind of thrown our lots in with each other, so... my luck oughta win out. I've put enough time and effort into stacking the deck, I think." Offering Will a sympathetic pat, Sam stepped forward to open the door into the airport. "I've got my lucky rabbit's foot, a lucky button, red slipknots---again, for luck---a whole bracelet of lucky pennies, my lucky pendant; the works."

As soon as Will stepped inside, Sam followed. Fingers crossed (for whose sake, she couldn't say; everyone's?) she craned her neck, peering down the way to where Will's mother was.

[deadboywalking]

"For real? You've got all that in your pockets?" Will eyes Sam's pockets skeptically, like he'll somehow develop x-ray vision and be able to see the various accouterments of luck. But at least some of them seem to work, because Joyce is only just now rousing herself and sitting up, rubbing at her eyes, then immediately stumbling to her feet, face stricken.

Recognizing the signs of an impending freak-out, Will quickly waves and calls, "Mom! I'm right here!"

[10_20_15_5_50]

"Well, I've got some of it on," but saying so was as far as Sam got. She'd been about to pull her pendant up to show Will the teardrop of red coral---real, but small enough to be affordable---but then he was waving, cutting a crisis off before it could really begin. She gave his back a light push, speaking quietly. "Don't wait for me. I'll catch up in a minute."

[mommabear]

It never stops. Joyce is barely conscious before she's reaching out for Will and, finding him not within arm's reach, she's on her feet with her heart in her throat and her chest seizing. She's never not afraid for him, about him. It doesn't matter that he's there, hurrying towards her, smiling and sheepish and pink-cheeked and wearing someone's sweatshirt. All that matters is he wasn't there for a second.

So Joyce's breath rushes out and she clutches Will to her, muffling his sheepishly grumbled protests, arms like iron around him. "Honey, don't do that! Where were you? Whose is this? Who's that?" She peppers him with questions, glancing over at Sam with a quick, immediately mistrustful look.